


Repeating How Badly I Love You

by gyuhan



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Blindfolds, Canon Universe, Chair Bondage, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Messy, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, mentions of switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyuhan/pseuds/gyuhan
Summary: The lipstick glides over his puffy bottom lip, then more carefully does the same to his top lip. Jeonghan twists his hand so the backs of the knuckles on two of his fingers wipe at the corners of Mingyu’s mouth, fixing the edges, and then pulls away.A short pause, then. The air going out of Mingyu’s lungs. Jeonghan’s thighs sliding hot over Mingyu’s lap as he inches closer.“You look good like this, Mingyu.”Mingyu feels dangerously short of breath.“Should I put more on you?”
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 120





	Repeating How Badly I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> [There's art for this](https://twitter.com/gyucore/status/1180685305256517632) that I'd definitely recommend looking at before reading this and [they have commissions open](https://twitter.com/gyucore/status/1257677047448645634) if you want to commission art from them as well.
> 
> find me on [@mingyupuppyism](https://twitter.com/mingyupuppyism)

Mingyu’s lips stick out in Jeonghan’s grasp, cheeks squished, and he squirms restlessly in place.

“Hold still.” It’s the most Jeonghan’s spoken to Mingyu in the past minute, hotel room silent. “I said hold still,” Jeonghan repeats with added weight, fingers clutching at Mingyu’s face with one hand. Jeonghan shifts around. 

“Hyung,” Mingyu speaks softly, voice obscuring under the squeeze of Jeonghan's fingers into his cheeks. Apprehensively, he presses his nails to the skin of his palms, scratching continuously at the heels of his hands. He tries not to, but helplessly shifts again, struggling to get used to the weight atop his thighs and the tightness encircling his wrists.

“Don’t talk, I’m not finished yet.” 

Mingyu doesn’t even know what that means.

"But I can’t see anything,” he complains, even when there are many other far more pressing issues weighing on him. 

For starters, there’s the matter of his poor wrists. They’ve begun to hurt already, as well as his arms, sore from all the sharp jerks of muscle that cause his skin to chafe and pull tight on the heavy straps keeping his wrists trapped together behind the back of his chair. He can’t move by much, save for his wriggling. Not because Jeonghan is anywhere near heavy enough to make it hard for him to do so, but because the cuffs that’re keeping his legs bound to the chair that Jeonghan pushed him into are doing their fair share of the work alongside the wrist restraints. His legs are slightly spread, mostly to accommodate the man seated astride them, and he can’t do anything other than squirm, which he does. Several times.

“And you’ll get over that, won’t you?” Jeonghan prompts, but it’s not really a question at all. His words ask, _‘Do you think you can do that for me?’_ but his tone says, _‘You will.’_

Mingyu pushes his tongue against one of his canines, hips shifting once more, and can say nothing in reply. His thighs tense. Jeonghan’s weight shifts back on his lap, distributed poorly enough to make the shift hard on Mingyu’s knees. He keeps doing that—moving a little here and there while over Mingyu’s lap, distracting Mingyu for a few moments. 

Jeonghan’s right, though. He could get over not being able to see. The soft strip of cloth Jeonghan had slid over his eyes to block out his sight was nothing in comparison to the state of him—that is to say, the _very_ stark state of his body, naked down to his feet—which keeps him more than comfortably aware of every glance of _something_ across his skin. Well, except for the blindfold. That, Jeonghan had told him in no uncertain terms, was the one thing he had to keep on. 

Without sight, he can’t tell what face Jeonghan is making, nor can he use his expression to guess what he’s planning to do to him next. There might be nothing else coming. Jeonghan does that sometimes. He’ll display Mingyu naked before him, take his time working him up with brief touches and near tangible glances, only to tell him to get dressed and give him the boot after he’s finished toying with him. Mingyu is more than well acquainted with frustrated jerking-off in the dorm’s bathroom.

A tease. That’s what Jeonghan is. His own personal demon hell-bent on taking him down a peg in any way he can. And, _fuck_ , he’s really good at it. Annoyingly so.

There his thoughts come to a halt when a sudden warmth presses against his lips, seeking entry, and his mouth falls open to it the same way his legs had spread to allow Jeonghan better seating. Thoughtlessly accommodating to someone who would gladly exploit that compliant personality of his.

Jeonghan’s tongue seeks to take itself deep inside his mouth, lips dragging sticky and soft over his, and Mingyu can do nothing except follow along, kissing back as much as he’s allowed. The muscles in his arms twitch to reach out and hold onto Jeonghan’s face, to get a grip and take the kiss in a more serious direction than the tease of Jeonghan’s hair tickling his jaw, but the restraints are too strong to fight against and come out the victor. 

The frustrated grumble that leaves his lips mid-kiss makes Jeonghan laugh against his face, the sound airy and wispish, blowing breath into Mingyu’s mouth. He pulls away with a kiss to Mingyu’s cheek.

“Oh,” Jeonghan says into the silence, his delight nearly large enough to take up the empty space between them. “It looks like I got lipstick on your mouth.”

Mingyu’s brain takes only a few seconds to connect the dots and understand what Jeonghan means before his whole body tenses once more, mouth going dry. His untouched and only half-hard cock slowly begins to fill out against his thigh, almost all the blood from his head rushing south. He can’t control a single one of his reactions. 

Jeonghan is wearing lipstick. He hadn’t been before when he’d put the blindfold over Mingyu’s eyes, is the thing. But there’s lipstick on him now. Is it bright red or a soft pink? Is it glossy? Is it flavored?

Mingyu licks his lips, all too aware that Jeonghan is probably watching his face as he does it, but can’t bring himself to care as the artificial taste of vanilla spreads across his tongue. He would smile if it weren’t for the restricting grasp Jeonghan still has on his cheeks. 

“You seem to be enjoying that. It’s sweet, right? Should I let you try it for yourself?” Jeonghan proposes, his voice smug in a way that makes Mingyu think this has to be what he wanted all along. To put lipstick on him. Why he couldn’t just ask, Mingyu has no clue.

Jeonghan’s lips press once more against his and he tips his head up to accept it, to kiss back, to feel the heat of Jeonghan’s open mouth, the wet glide of his tongue, aware of the hints of vanilla spiking when he sweeps his tongue out against Jeonghan’s mouth. He squirms again, but instead of squirming to alleviate nerves he’s doing it to try to get closer, to be chest to chest and rut against Jeonghan’s hip. He’s filling out now so fast that a sharply urgent ache is radiating through his groin, uncomfortable and inconsolable with what little he’s being given. 

“Please,” Mingyu speaks up as Jeonghan’s mouth pulls away, slurred only a little by the squish of his cheeks. His hands are white-knuckled behind his back. “Whatever tricks you’re planning, please just touch me first.”

Jeonghan hums like he’s thinking about it, and for a moment does nothing else except keep his hand right there clutching Mingyu’s face. Until a few seconds later, when down comes Jeonghan’s other hand, knuckles sweeping across Mingyu’s bottom lip, before his hand settles poised over his mouth. Mingyu knows if he could look down upon his lap he’d see his cock standing flushed and hard enough to show exactly what he needs from Jeonghan. 

The touch of the tube of lipstick to his lips that Jeonghan must have got from somewhere surprises him enough that he can’t say a word, can’t make a single sound. The lipstick glides over his puffy bottom lip, then more carefully does the same to his top lip. Jeonghan twists his hand so the backs of the knuckles on two of his fingers wipe at the corners of Mingyu’s mouth, fixing the edges, and then pulls away. 

A short pause, then. The air going out of Mingyu’s lungs. Jeonghan’s thighs sliding hot over Mingyu’s lap as he inches closer.

“You look good like this, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu feels dangerously short of breath. 

“Should I put more on you?”

The pounding in his chest nearly deafens him. His head jerks in what could be a nod, but could just as well be a knee-jerk reaction to the shift of Jeonghan moving even closer over his lap; _right there_ , near enough that their hips could almost meet. Jeonghan’s legs are bare, naked from the waist down, but as Jeonghan leans forward there’s a distinct brush of silk across Mingyu’s lower stomach and the tops of his thighs just behind Jeonghan’s ass. Jeonghan’s wearing that long blouse of his, the ruffled red one that makes Mingyu think about him in all kinds of indecent scenarios, his brain going stupid with desire at each instance of the blouse appearing on Jeonghan’s shoulders. He’d recognize the feel of the material even in his sleep. 

It’s the one Mingyu had once told Jeonghan made him look unbearably sexy, yet Mingyu isn’t even allowed to see him in it. He groans as softly as he can, the injustice of it eating at him.

The lipstick presses heavily into the middle of his bottom lip, lip depressing around it, and Jeonghan’s voice comes back to him with more of that incendiary bite, that taunting lilt. 

“But, ahh, what to do… I hate coloring in the lines…” Jeonghan trails off.

More added pressure. A drag. Suddenly the lipstick is running down his chin, slowly moving to circle around the notch of his throat, dipping into the hollow below it. It feels sticky but soft like velvet. A line of it pulling down from his mouth. 

What color is it? What color is Jeonghan painting him in? Mingyu swallows roughly and presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth to keep quiet. Jeonghan would paint him in red, he thinks. He’s always told him that the best he ever looks is when he’s flushed from head to toe. Jeonghan would pick red, but in what shade? Is it bright enough to stand out against his skin or something darker? Sexier?

Jeonghan releases the hold on his cheeks and Mingyu tries to keep his sigh shallow, to quiet it as his breath exhales out over Jeonghan’s fingers when he takes away his hand. A thumb finds its place at the front of his throat directly under the notch there, the other fingers on Jeonghan’s hand curling around the side of his neck. He feels the smear of lipstick transferring to Jeonghan’s skin, messy over Jeonghan’s thumb. Can imagine it perfectly. He aches and his thoughts race once more over what Jeonghan must look like right now. The sight he’s being deprived of. 

The tube of lipstick drags down, swirling lines left behind on his chest. Lurid. Sticky. Rousing. 

Mingyu’s knee jerks, sudden and unexpected, a breath escaping him and then catching in his throat as Jeonghan strays to the side and circles his nipple with a streak of lipstick, once, twice, three times around, then stops. His hand twists and then his thumb presses into the center of the bullseye he’s drawn, rubbing dryly at the tight nub of Mingyu’s nipple. 

“It’s good you’re tied up,” Jeonghan tells him as his nail bites into the sensitive peak of Mingyu’s chest, “or you might just try to knock me over for doing this. You’re so ticklish.” 

The sound he lets out pricks his ears, makes Jeonghan laugh again. A whimper. 

Jeonghan shushes him, says, “All right,” sweetly, and takes away his thumb. “Open your mouth.”

Mingyu feels his ears burning, but does as he’s told. 

The pad of Jeonghan’s thumb slides inside him, pressing down on the hotness of his tongue, then slips out. It barely lasts two seconds but tastes of vanilla, leaves his tongue coated in tacky lipstick. His cock beads with a slight wetness at the head. His arms strain against the constraints trapping him there under Jeonghan’s hands, and thighs, and words. 

Jeonghan’s wet thumb soothes over Mingyu’s nipple in apology at first, gentle, and then teasing as he simply keeps up the soft, circular motion without doing anything else

“Hyung,” Mingyu urges, a break in his voice like he hasn’t spoken in ages. His feet stomp a little, jostling Jeonghan. “Come _on_. Please, just—”

Jeonghan kisses him quiet, save for the hotly desperate sounds Mingyu cannot help but make in the back of his throat most of the time, the panting when they separate. His brow furrows as he tries to lean forward to steal his way into Jeonghan’s mouth for even one more kiss, but Jeonghan’s already sat back again. 

God, he’s right there and Mingyu can’t even _touch_ him. He can’t do _anything_. It makes him feel like he’s going mad with everything he wants to do to him. 

The hand on his throat tightens some, not a lot, but enough. Mingyu’s heart pounds. His skin burns as if he’s been left out in the sun for days. Charring everywhere. A candle melting under the heat of Jeonghan’s touch.

“Don’t mess me up, Kim Mingyu,” Jeonghan says in warning, and then the lipstick sweeps across his ribs, moves down, further, further still, until Mingyu understands why Jeonghan has such a good grip on his throat, why he had to tell him to be careful not to disturb him. 

Jeonghan draws circles of red under his navel in small figure eights, forcing Mingyu’s skin to break out in goosebumps everywhere, his toes curling, his breath bottoming out. Jeonghan wasn’t lying, Mingyu really is ticklish. He shivers, strong and hard, and Jeonghan makes a derisive noise through his nose as his hand goes off course on accident.

Only, that’s the thing. Jeonghan’s hand slashes a line of sticky red over his lower stomach, and there… the side of Jeonghan’s hand brushes against the head of Mingyu’s cock, breaks the bead of wetness across both of their skin, and Mingyu moans before he can stop himself, before he even thinks about the consequences.

He just aches, hurts even, and the white hot electricity of just that much contact shoots a line of fire to the soles of his feet, to his palms that’re already squeezed shut, to the prickling at the back of his neck. He can’t stop trembling, the act of it making him go breathless. 

“Jeonghan, please,” he gasps, hips jerking up to get more. He can’t think of anything else to say, can’t be as clever as Jeonghan gets when he wants something. 

Jeonghan doesn't move his hand away, and he doesn’t seem to mind the way Mingyu’s trying to rut against the side of his hand either. It’s not like Mingyu’s any bit successful, though, so maybe that’s why he hasn’t told him to stop. 

Jeonghan sighs like he’s got a million different things he wants to say but knows he can only say so much to Mingyu right now that’ll actually get through to him. 

“You can’t blame me for that. That was your fault. I told you to stay still.”

“I’m not, just— I just want to come. Hyung, _please_.”

If Mingyu could see, he knows Jeonghan would grit his teeth here. He repeats the words again, trying to hit Jeonghan’s weak spots and just get _something_. He’ll take anything at this point. 

“Hyung,” he gasps and squeezes his eyes tight as he rolls his hips up once more, fruitless but unable to give up what little bit of leeway he has. “Please. Please, hyung, just let me. I’ll do anything. Really. So let—”

There’s no warning besides the tightening against his throat and the soft thud of the lipstick hitting the floor before Jeonghan’s hand is wrapped around the base of his cock. Nothing would have prepared Mingyu for it anyway. He strains upward, thighs tensing, throat constricting, pulling everywhere at where he’s strapped down onto the chair. 

God, he’d throw Jeonghan off of him if he weren’t tied up. 

The feeling is too much and not enough all at once and it’s excruciating to be on the verge of being pulled apart like that. He groans, but it comes out more guttural than he means it to with a hand still on his throat. Wetter. A sob, more likely. Frustration boiling him alive, softening his vocal chords until he feels like maybe he might cry. 

He just wants release. From the constraints a little, but only when Jeonghan lets him. From the pressure in his balls mostly, but only if Jeonghan’s going to say he can.

And Jeonghan might not even do either. 

“Mingyu-ya,” Jeonghan calls softly, leaning in to press his mouth to the side of Mingyu’s neck, his lips beside where his thumb has sunken into Mingyu’s skin, a small crescent moon shape embedded into his throat. He kisses upwards to the soft spot under Mingyu’s ear, licking out just there and numbing all the salacious thoughts in Mingyu’s mind. “Do you want me?”

An answer has never been more obvious. 

“Please,” Mingyu whines, and it tears at his throat despite how quiet it is, his voice ragged. 

Jeonghan doesn’t tell him if he‘ll give himself over to him like he implied. He only orders, “Move down some, I need you to slouch for me,” before letting go of Mingyu’s hard-on.

Mingyu swallows down the disappointment and makes quick work of wriggling as much as the cuffs will allow him downwards, until his back is slightly bowed, shoulders digging hard into the back of the chair, his legs spreading wider. 

“Good puppy,” Jeonghan praises, the nickname comfortable in his mouth, his hand pressing down onto Mingyu’s stomach. He rubs upwards, over Mingyu’s abs, across each pec, and then scratches downward to Mingyu’s navel. Mingyu’s muscles shift and tense everywhere Jeonghan spreads his palm possessively across, proprietary over each inch of Mingyu’s skin like this. 

Jeonghan picks himself up and scoots closer, until silk is brushing all over Mingyu’s sensitive chest and his hips press right against Mingyu, and—

“ _Jeonghan_ …” Mingyu says in shock, trailing off as he feels every bit of Jeonghan’s hardness, the dampness, the way Jeonghan’s cock drips down onto his stomach and pools precome into his navel on a sharp, uncontrolled thrust forward once Jeonghan comes into contact with Mingyu’s warm skin. “Why did you wait so long? Untie me. Let me—” he cuts himself off to wet his lips, a small explosion of vanilla, pausing to attempt to tamp down on some of the sudden want that sings through him. “Let me help you.”

Jeonghan rolls his hips downward against Mingyu’s stomach with purpose this time, the blatant act of his rutting a statement. 

“I can help myself,” he tells him, voice cool. “You should worry about yourself.”

Jeonghan’s hand travels lower until he catches the base of Mingyu’s cock between the V of his spread fingers. Mingyu’s breath hitches but he pays it no mind as he presses Mingyu’s cock down, shifts closer over top of him, and then lets go. His hips drop. He reaches from behind himself, encircling Mingyu again with his fingers, and pulls his cock upwards until he slides between Jeonghan’s cheeks. 

Mingyu’s brain delays for a pregnant beat, he breathes out the word, “Hyung…” and can’t think about anything else except for the new discovery he’s faced with.

It’s slick. 

“I’m already loose.” Jeonghan’s smugness and the smirk playing across his lips are both obvious just from the tone he uses alone. It turns Mingyu on so bad he bites his cheek to distract himself from the urge to thrust up, his appetite growing. 

Mingyu doesn’t know what to do. His tongue would tie itself in seconds if he even tried to speak. 

“Nothing to say?” Jeonghan questions. The thumb over Mingyu’s throat begins to swish back and forth across his Adam’s apple like a playful cat’s tail. The fun Jeonghan’s getting out of this is palpable. “You’re not even going to ask me for it?”

Mingyu knows what Jeonghan means. He’d have to be a fucking idiot not to get what Jeonghan’s asking, but the words won’t come out. The anticipation and excitement for it are choking him. All he wants to do is beg for it, to say whatever it takes for Jeonghan to clench tight around him, to wring him free of all his stresses, but he’s been strung on for so long it’s hard to see an end to it. 

“Mingyu,” Jeonghan croons right at his ear now, titillating, urging. His hand rubs at Mingyu’s chest, the swell of muscle, the peak of a nipple, lipstick smearing everywhere. “Are you going to take me? Don’t you want to?”

A rough jerk of his chin is the best he can give in answer, a choppy nod that he hopes will be enough for Jeonghan. His cock throbs and brushes against the stickiness of Jeonghan’s inner thigh and cheek. He wants to grind upwards, to slip inside as easy as Jeonghan makes it seem. 

How long did he prepare himself? When? Surely he did it before Mingyu showed up, right? Not while he was already there? Or was that what Jeonghan was doing while shifting over him earlier?

Jeonghan starts talking again and breaks Mingyu free of his thoughts, asking, “If I fit you inside me, would you be able to keep still? Could you manage it?”

He shakes his head clear, finding it in himself to still be capable of at least a few words if it means he can get them on even footing again. 

“You know I can’t move,” he says, and he’s sure he sounds like he’s complaining again.

Jeonghan hums, moving his hips enough so that Mingyu brushes against his ass at the same time as he brushes against Mingyu’s stomach.

“Hmm, is that so? Do you want me to take off your restraints?”

Mingyu licks his lips, but he knows better. “Would you?”

“No, probably not.” Mingyu sighs, expecting to hear that. Jeonghan’s hand comes back from behind to press flat against his cock, forcing him to slide right along his cleft. “But you’ll still try to move anyway, won’t you? You’re like that.”

He’s being driven up the wall. “Hyung, just do it already.”

“Do you want me to put it in that bad?” Jeonghan presses on him harder, pushing Mingyu’s cock up against his ass and moving his hips in small see-sawing motions just to fuck with him. “Without even saying please?”

“Fuck, just—” Mingyu drops his head down onto what can only be Jeonghan’s shoulder, and Jeonghan turns into it, leaning his cheek against his head. “Please, hyung.”

“It’s okay,” Jeonghan soothes, nuzzling his nose into Mingyu’s hair. “You can’t always be good. I’ll let you go just this once.” He kisses his head, holding his mouth there for a beat before pulling Mingyu’s cock up and moving, shifting up higher and pushing Mingyu back against the chair as he leans over him, fingers slippery from the lube now, and begins to guide Mingyu inside him. 

The encircling of heat is brutal. Jeonghan pushes him inside with a speed that makes him ache from a phantom sensation, knowing exactly what it feels like to be entered with only so much time to adjust. Jeonghan doesn’t make a sound, though. Not at first, at least. 

Mingyu bites at his lip and stiffens his abs to keep back any pleas he instinctively wants to let free, nearly breaking the already chapped skin of his lip just to stop himself. Jeonghan might be doing the same, he can’t tell. The only thing he hears is a muffled sound, high and thready as it is, right when Jeonghan settles back as far as he can in Mingyu’s lap, silky shirt hanging down between Mingyu’s thighs. 

Mingyu wants to see Jeonghan’s face so badly he’d do anything, he’d give anything. Jeonghan makes another noise like a grunt once he’s full and Mingyu wants to know if his face is red, if his brow shines with the effort of taking his cock so fast, if his hair is in his face, if his head is hanging down, if he’s watching the muscles in Mingyu’s stomach and arms as he tries to stay still, if he’s sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to keep quiet.

“Jeonghan, can I—” he swallows. The strain in his throat lessens some with another swallow. He gives his hands a squeeze together and tries again. “Do I have to keep the blindfold on this long? I want to see you.”

“ _Hah_ ,” Jeonghan puffs out, his voice pained, and Mingyu almost goes to pull out before he remembers he can’t.

He doesn’t let Jeonghan get the chance to speak, straining his arms against the restraints and trying to lean forward, hard to do when he’s slumped down. The strain of it chafes but he just wants to check on Jeonghan and doesn’t care about the way his body ripens quickly with new sorenesses. 

“Are you okay? Maybe you should raise up.” He squirms like he has any control over their positioning, like he can unsheathe himself from Jeonghan. “Untie my hands and I can loosen you up more. It’s okay to pull it out if it hurts, we don’t have to—”

“Shut up, it’s fine,” Jeonghan insists, releasing Mingyu’s throat to push at his chest, slapping at it more than once and hard enough that he’ll stop trying to move. “I’m okay. I’m just really feeling it. I— I haven’t done it that fast in a while, but I’m fine, all right? Stop moving so much it’s— it’s making it go deeper.”

Mingyu freezes at those words and feels it when his cock throbs inside of Jeonghan, that weird sensation of something surrounding him while he jerks as a pulse of arousal rocks through him. He’s not going to last long if he doesn’t keep himself under control. 

“Felt that,” Jeonghan says breathlessly, the sound of his voice picking up enough to know that he’s smiling even despite his discomfort. “You’re in really deep, Mingyu-ya. Do you like that?”

Mingyu just wants to bury his face in Jeonghan’s neck and wrap him up in his arms. Being deprived of something so simple is making him wish they weren’t even doing this at all. He just wants to hug him. 

“Hyung, kiss me.”

“Mm,” Jeonghan agrees, granting him some freedom to get what he wants for once.

Jeonghan’s hair brushes over his forehead and he feels warm lips come down over the tip of his nose, straying to kiss over a spot on his left cheek, behind his ear, then coming back to kiss his top lip, then bottom, then tongues open Mingyu’s mouth. 

Mingyu sighs in relief, kissing back and feeling his shoulders slumping, his back depressing. Jeonghan moves up off his lap an inch or so, dragging over his cock in slow increments, and he’s too busy relaxing into the kiss to notice it until Jeonghan drops down roughly. 

They groan as one, echoing the sound in each other’s mouths, and Jeonghan quickly slides upwards again, his thighs tensing over Mingyu’s, and drops again. Jeonghan’s back curves, pausing to wriggle his hips and dig his pelvis into the bones of Mingyu’s hips as he tries to find that spot inside himself, tries to get the angle right but fails time and time again, until suddenly—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jeonghan hisses, ripping his mouth away from Mingyu’s and pulling back, the backs of his knuckles glancing along Mingyu’s navel as he takes himself in hand and starts to strip his own cock while taking Mingyu’s. 

Mingyu feels every pull of it, Jeonghan so close on his lap that his hand rubs against Mingyu’s stomach on each stroke, and it could be Mingyu’s hand working to get him off so easily if Jeonghan would just untie him. He could have Jeonghan gasping into his mouth with it if he got to hold him, if he could work him up and over the peak of his arousal. It makes his jaw ache to want to please Jeonghan so badly and still not be allowed to get even that. 

“Hyung, I could help you.” The edge to his voice is too desperate to be anything but a plea and Jeonghan ignores him entirely. 

Jeonghan takes him halfway out and then slides him back inside, wrapping around him until the hilt, clenching once he settles back, and Mingyu startles and tosses his head back, releasing the harsh clamp of his jaw to pant. He breathes so shallowly it’s hard to believe he’s getting any air in his lungs at all. In fact, maybe that’s why he’s feeling so lightheaded. 

He doesn’t say anything else and neither does Jeonghan, though Jeonghan is probably just too busy doing all of the work to really say anything anymore. 

Their voices mix, the sounds of them breathing heavily and getting too loud. Jeonghan drops his forehead to Mingyu’s, slumps over him at one point and gives up riding him in favor of just rolling his hips to at least milk his prostate some, his stamina fading away after a few minutes of exercise. Mingyu tries to help by angling his hips and fucking up as best as he can, but there’s no real satisfaction in it when he can’t even move up enough to stroke inside of Jeonghan. 

He groans, feeling something slipping through his grasp—the peak of his climax falling off into a simmer with Jeonghan only moving his hips and nothing else. 

Mingyu is gearing up to ask to be released from the bindings again until Jeonghan is suddenly pulling off of him entirely, Mingyu’s cock slipping out with strings of precome and lube. 

“I’m close, Mingyu,” says Jeonghan, voice worn and weak. He sounds like he’s flushed and sweaty, like he’s taken Mingyu too deep and now he’s lit up with tremors of pleasure. Like if Mingyu were to be able to drink in the sight of him, the vision he makes alone might be enough to make him come too. 

“Let me see you,” Mingyu insists. 

Jeonghan hemms, probably shaking his head, and Mingyu huffs loudly, so tired of being told no. 

“Just me,” Jeonghan says breathlessly, barely stringing the words along to deny him. 

Jeonghan shuffles and swings one leg backward to stand up. A hand catches Mingyu on the shoulder, a knee perched between Mingyu’s legs on the seat of the chair. 

Mingyu can’t see it when Jeonghan takes his cock between the circle of his slender fingers. All he can do is listen as Jeonghan gasps wetly, voice rising an octave as he strokes and tortures Mingyu with the noises he can’t stop making. 

The throaty moans and huffs increase quickly. The slick sound of Jeonghan’s hand rapidly encasing his cock taking up all of Mingyu’s attention, no longer rolling his hips against nothing in favor of cataloging all of those indecent sighs and sharp, muffled cries in his head. Trying to picture what he’s not seeing. 

Is Jeonghan going to come across his skin? Will he jerk Mingyu off next too or take him in his mouth? Is he watching Mingyu’s face or the helpless pulsing of his abandoned cock while taking himself in hand? If Jeonghan’s cock is wet is it because of his own saliva or is he using the messy mix of lube and Mingyu’s precome from his hole to fuck himself?

The thought spurs Mingyu on, clenching his muscles everywhere in response to the throbs of arousal that flip his stomach and muddle his thoughts. 

“Hyung,” Mingyu wheedles, trying to rut his hips forward enough to get some sort of contact. He doesn’t even care where, closing his thighs tight around Jeonghan’s knee. Once more he appeals for Jeonghan’s pity, repeating, “Please, I just want to watch. Let me see you.”

Jeonghan curses, the chair shaking under his knee, and in one second the hand on Mingyu’s shoulder lifts to curl under the edges of the blindfold, and in the next second Jeonghan rips it off. 

His eyes open and take a few seconds to adjust, but in those few seconds he sees the look on Jeonghan’s face, catches his eyes with his, and watches Jeonghan’s smeared red mouth part in the pleasure of release, his lids shutting as he comes over Mingyu’s lap and up his stomach. Some of Jeonghan’s come dribbles out onto Mingyu’s cock when Jeonghan shudders above him, holding himself over Mingyu with a hand on top of Mingyu’s head, digging fingers into his hair. 

Jeonghan keeps himself propped over Mingyu while trying to calm himself, his chest expanding and contracting like crazy. Jeonghan’s lips are a deep cherry red and his lipstick smears about halfway down his chin, an imprint of Mingyu’s own lips pressed like a dry rose under Jeonghan’s jaw. His red blouse has been almost ripped open, a button here and there still done up while the others are off, messy like he was rushing to get a hand inside to brush fingers over his skin. His cheeks are flushed, damp hair curling behind his ears and at his nape. Sweat glistens down his throat and over what’s exposed of his chest, nipples tight, muscles everywhere taut when another throb rocks him. His hips twitch and stutter through aftershocks of his orgasm, only he doesn’t seem to be getting any less hard. Mingyu isn’t either, to be fair, but he’s still yet to come. 

Mingyu’s arm pulls against the straps, forgetting for a second in his compulsion to reach out and stroke where Jeonghan’s still dribbling come that he can’t move. His fascination is wearing on him, wanting to see if Jeonghan’s even aware that he’s still hard. 

Jeonghan eyes his left shoulder up as if he knew exactly why Mingyu tried to grab at him. He doesn’t say anything about it, though. Instead choosing to tighten his fingers in Mingyu’s sweaty bangs and pull his hair back to look into the openness of his expression. 

“Are you close?” Jeonghan asks. 

Mingyu shifts a leg up some, casting his eyes down to the downy hair on Jeonghan’s bare legs. He doesn’t want to hurt Jeonghan’s feelings, but can’t lie when Jeonghan’s looking at him so closely. 

“Not anymore,” he admits. 

“Were you almost going to come earlier? When?”

“You know when…” Mingyu has a hard time knowing how to phrase it. He settles on a vague, “When you were on top, that’s when.”

Jeonghan’s hand slips to trail clever fingertips along Mingyu’s jaw, sweeping to curl fingers under his chin and tilt his head back for him. “Let’s get you close again, just one more time.”

The touch of their lips causes all of the air in Mingyu’s lungs to push out through his nose and he presses upwards into it, letting loose his wants into the kiss with a slick tongue and nipping teeth. Jeonghan gives what he can into the kiss while multitasking, once more climbing atop him and fisting his cock to get him inside with ease. 

Jeonghan’s still so hot around him, tight in a way Mingyu’s hand will never be, in a way that makes Mingyu know he’ll only be able to find satisfaction in Jeonghan anymore. He can’t rely on himself, has to seek Jeonghan out every time that he needs release, either to be entered himself and melt into all of that thick pressure and intrusive rutting or roll into Jeonghan with a loose grasp on how to breathe in and out when Jeonghan squeezes the come from him. 

Like now, Mingyu’s arching upwards into it, that loose heat, that stripping sensation of Jeonghan working over him. Jeonghan’s thighs must hurt, must burn, but Mingyu doesn’t care so long as Jeonghan’s going to make do on his words and get him close. 

The side of Jeonghan’s temple presses to one of Mingyu’s shoulders as Jeonghan breathes unevenly in and out, puffing air with difficulty. Mingyu turns and noses into Jeonghan’s hair, eyes closed to focus on feeling everything. 

It’d be so much easier if he could just pick Jeonghan up. If Jeonghan would let him control something for once. As it stands, Jeonghan rides him with what leftover strength he has to do so in a position that leaves him no easy way out. 

Jeonghan’s arms surround his shoulders, biceps flexing as he uses that to help pull himself up over the length of Mingyu’s cock until only the head still fits inside him and then slides down. Mingyu whines, turning to take whatever part of Jeonghan’s skin he can into his mouth, sucking hard at the side of Jeonghan’s neck. Jeonghan makes a sound at that, something absently scolding like he wants to tell Mingyu to stop teething at him but can’t spare too long letting his attention stray from the next rise and fall of his hips. 

“No marks.”

Mingyu ignores him. He peppers kisses and bites, licks, sucks, and tries to do anything he can to keep from letting Jeonghan’s name cry out from his lips. 

Jeonghan works over him quicker, harder. His stamina coming back within two minutes of fucking Mingyu into him slow, and the pace change is so good Mingyu curses. He opens his eyes to watch whatever he can see of Jeonghan’s ass taking him, of Jeonghan’s smooth, taught back bowing towards him, blouse falling off the side of one of Jeonghan’s shoulders and sheened enough in sweat that it sticks close to his skin and bunches up around the middle of his back.

His vision starts swimming and he grits his teeth and closes his eyes back again to focus. The pressure in his balls builds like that, Jeonghan using Mingyu to fuck himself fast, head turning to Mingyu, kissing at Mingyu’s ear, moaning there when Mingyu’s hips jerk at the sensitivity of that spot. 

Jeonghan’s breath tickles him, voice lighting him up inside. “Are you close now?”

Mingyu nods, biting at his lip. His balls are already starting to draw tight, and he knows Jeonghan’s hole is leaking some down around him, his precome being pushed out on each rise of Jeonghan’s hips. Jeonghan’s always laughed at him for just how much comes out of him whenever he lets Mingyu inside him, often making Mingyu clean him up after with his weight pressing down on Mingyu, Mingyu’s tongue working in strokes. 

A teasing bite to the shell of Mingyu’s ear makes him clench down on nothing, wishing for a moment that he at least had Jeonghan’s fingers.

“How close, Mingyu?” Jeonghan urges an answer from him, starting to slow his pace somewhat to get the words out. 

Mingyu has no fucking clue how to answer that. It’s not like he can pause to think about it. But he’s covered in sweat, pulse fluttering at that point on his throat, and his abs won’t stop clenching taut, nerves flitting through him with how much his cock is feeling. 

He forces out the word, “ _Close_ ,” against Jeonghan’s shoulder in a whine, the word elongated with it, pitched high like he’s really going to explode at any second. He probably will. Just a few more thrusts, maybe. 

Jeonghan brushes his lips over Mingyu’s ear. His voice is match-struck, hot and insidious. “Ask me for it nicely, then.”

Mingyu nods again, impossible not to, his thighs shaking as he pushes up a little. 

“Please let me come. I’ll do anything for it, hyung,” he pants. Hard still. Desperate.

He thinks he’s asked for it in a way that’ll please Jeonghan. He’ll finally get what he wants now. 

Jeonghan laughs coolly, then crushes Mingyu’s hopes with a simple uttering of the word, “No.”

It’s like a bucket of ice water dumps over him. 

“No?” he repeats quietly, eyes widening.

Jeonghan pulls off. Precome oozes from his hole, sliding along his thigh and over Mingyu’s skin too. Mingyu was so close. He was _right_ there. 

Mingyu watches this time in horror as Jeonghan slips from his lap to stand back from him by a few inches. He couldn’t grab at Jeonghan even if his hands were free. 

Jeonghan’s hand circles around his cock, pulling it up against his stomach as he spreads his legs somewhat while standing there. Dripping onto the floor. 

Jeonghan strokes himself once, then twice. He moans. Mingyu grits his teeth. 

“Don’t do this,” Mingyu begs. 

“Hm?” Jeonghan asks before cupping a hand over his mouth as he twists his palm on the next stroke. 

Mingyu jiggles his legs, he shakes his arms, eyes rolling to the back of his head. His eyelids fall shut. He feels like an animal, a caged beast. Jeonghan’s voice grows louder. Panting. Sighing. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Jeonghan gasps while rolling his balls in a hand and starting to strip his cock faster with the other. 

“Please, hyung,” he speaks softly, voice waning, hands twisting behind his back. “Don’t leave me like this.”

“No,” Jeonghan says breathlessly, “I think I will.”

Jeonghan smiles at him then with flushed cheeks and damp, limp hair, lips still burnished from kissing, swollen, vanilla lipstick smeared all over his neck and exposed shoulder along with the hickeys and blurred sets of teeth marks. He looks so lovely, so sensual in that drooping silk blouse, the length of it so long that it drapes down to mid-thigh, rucked up to expose only his inner thighs and the place where he’s taking himself in hand, working himself over with strokes that are getting quicker and more brutal. He’s trying to come fast, Mingyu can tell. He’s not doing this in front of Mingyu to turn him on, he’s just being efficient and a little mean. Mingyu hates that he likes that about him. That occasional cruelty, the barbed comments that mix in with the praise, the shy smiles, the warm laughs.

“Hyung, come back. Don’t—Come _on._ You promised to finish it. You were gonna let me come.”

Jeonghan’s hips stutter forward and he drops his head on a loud gasp, clutching his cock for a beat as he staggers closer and ropes of come paint along Mingyu’s knee and thigh for a second time. Mingyu’s cock jerks helplessly at the sensation of it, the sudden warmth of Jeonghan’s come splattering onto his cooling skin. 

After a beat and many haggard breaths, Jeonghan curls his fingers and Mingyu’s mouth parts at the snapping sound he hears, as he watches Jeonghan slip off a clear, nearly unnoticeable cockring and drop it, uncaring, to the floor. 

Mingyu almost comes from nothing other than that. The embarrassment of it chokes him the same way the lust does. He wants to come inside Jeonghan so bad, wants to push up his legs around his shoulders and go until he can’t go anymore, have Jeonghan milk every bit of his cock until it hurts to even pull out. 

Jeonghan says nothing. Those sounds he makes only get quieter and quieter as the seconds pass. 

Mingyu’s cock keeps twitching. His mind working him into a tizzy. Half delirious from thinking so vividly about Jeonghan letting him keep going. Jeonghan’s thighs tensing around his hips. Jeonghan’s voice in his ear just before coming. That sweet, breathy tone Jeonghan uses when he wants to work Mingyu up and push him over the edge. That deeper voice when he orders him around. The bite of his teeth around Mingyu’s fingers when Mingyu fucks him too fast. The way lipstick would stain his cock red if Jeonghan put his mouth around it right now. 

Out of nowhere, Jeonghan declares, “I’m going to go use the shower.” 

His words barely even slur together and it feels like a slap to Mingyu’s face. The orderliness of it. The calmness Jeonghan embodies already when Mingyu himself thinks he’s seconds from splitting apart at the seams, overstuffed with all of his desires and spilling his heart out onto the floor. His head is so light he’d probably faint if he stood up too quickly.

“What?” Mingyu asks in disbelief.

“I’m sweaty and you made a mess of me,” Jeonghan clarifies absently, flippant in a way, almost as if he’s _bored_ now. The tone stings him. The tone makes him want to fuck him. “I need to wash up.”

Mingyu’s gaze drops to Jeonghan’s inner thighs, the way they glisten. His precome is there, he knows, along with lube. Maybe along with some of Jeonghan’s own come, who knows. 

Jeonghan steps closer and he gazes down at Mingyu’s thick cock, the red bruising of it. 

“I think I’ll just leave you like this for a while. Hm?”

Mingyu hates the way Jeonghan purrs like that. That almost cat-like trill. It twists up his insides and pushes all rational thought out of the window so that it smashes into the ground below, making him useless. 

“The—there’s no way,” he forces out, dismissive. He refuses to believe Jeonghan’s going to leave him in this state. Not when he’s this desperate. He’s just teasing him, isn’t he? “You wouldn’t do that.” 

Jeonghan touches Mingyu’s knee with a hand, not even applying more than a feather’s weight of pressure, and Mingyu’s leg jerks, cock bobbing, standing out prominently against his stomach and begging for attention. Mingyu makes a muffled noise, urging, almost. 

“I barely touched you,” Jeonghan observes, trying to pretend like he sounds surprised by this. Acting like he didn’t calculate every touch he gave up until this point to make Mingyu this sensitive. Delight licks up his throat, scorches a hole on his face shaped like a pleased smile as he eyes Mingyu and says, “I bet you could come without my help.”

“No,” Mingyu gasps quickly, trying to say what he can before Jeonghan abandons him, trying to change his mind. Again, his arms move to reach out and grasp at Jeonghan’s wrists to bring him closer but he _can’t_ , the restraints pull tight and hurt. “Hyung, I won’t. Don’t leave me like this, please. I _won’t_.”

Jeonghan’s brows raise. “Won’t you?”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Mingyu groans, slamming his wrists into the back of the chair in distress. 

“If I ask for it, won’t you?” Jeonghan prompts, words dripping from his mouth like honey, so sweet it’s cloying. He’s just asking for Mingyu to choke on it. 

“Come on. It’s not fair, hyung, don’t—”

“Mingyu. I really want you to come by yourself.”

Mingyu squeezes his eyes closed. Tears almost brimming from frustration, from everything overwhelming him. He might come before Jeonghan’s even left the room, if he’s going to keep talking. He doesn’t want that, though. He wants to at least have Jeonghan’s hand on him before he lets go. At least a few more tugs.

“How about this: if I come back in here, Mingyu,” Jeonghan starts, saying Mingyu’s name once to get his attention and have him open his eyes, “and I see that you’ve come, then I’ll kneel right here when I finish getting dressed.” Jeonghan goes to the floor, sitting back on his heels between the spread of Mingyu’s knees. Mingyu about passes out from the sight. 

“I’ll place my hands here on your thighs—” Jeonghan hovers his hands over the sensitive insides of Mingyu’s thighs, right there before his knees, not letting their skin meet because he knows what it would do to Mingyu at this point “—and brush them up until here—” he mimics the act of moving his palms to the crease of where Mingyu’s hips meet his legs. 

“Then I’ll kiss your beauty mark here.” He leans his head down over Mingyu’s lap and blows cool air over where a beauty mark stands out against his left thigh, right over the rise of muscle. Mingyu doesn’t know if the way his cock throbs then is because of the feeling or the sight of Jeonghan’s head bent over him. “Then I’ll lick here.” He breathes hot air at the sharp cut of his hip bone. 

“And right when you beg me to, I’ll take your cock—” Mingyu can’t breathe, a heady whimper choking him “—inside my mouth and I’ll hold it there while you try to writhe around. But your constraints would be too tight, wouldn’t they, Mingyu-ya? So you’d be stuck there, and if you’d try to move your cock down my throat I’d pull off. You wouldn’t want that. So you’d have to stay still when I start to suck. And I’d be so gentle about it; I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

Mingyu tries to push his hips upwards because at this point just the side of Jeonghan’s neck sliding against his cock would be enough to get him off, but Jeonghan moves away too quickly, catches onto his plans too fast to fall prey to it. Jeonghan has the audacity to laugh under his breath when Mingyu groans at the loss. The embarrassment he feels from just how humiliating it is to be laughed at while strapped down to a chair naked and achingly in need of a helping hand scalds the tips of his ears and the back of his neck, makes his cock pearl with what could be the last of his precome.

“Hyung, please,” he pleads for what feels like the hundredth time, his voice husky, stubborn resolve weakening, “I just want your help.”

That gets him, Mingyu can tell. Something flickers behind his eyes and Jeonghan’s mouth drops open a little, face softening.

He doesn’t allow himself to get his hopes up, but, just in case, repeats, “Help me, hyung.”

“Please?” Jeonghan prompts the words from Mingyu’s lips, waiting, and he does sound breathless, the word partly catching. 

Mingyu nods his head fast, licking his lips and trying not to let his anticipation show.

“Please,” he repeats, biting the inside of his cheek after. He’s right there. Just one touch and he’ll be gone.

In just two minutes Mingyu’s went from one extreme of emotions to the other. He waits, clenching his hole, cock twitching with it, knowing he’ll come if he doesn’t stop doing that.

Jeonghan stands up slowly, graceful despite everything. He drags a hand through his hair, then down his blouse, disturbing the already loose buttons left keeping his decency and popping them out of the holes. His shirt comes all the way undone, parting for Mingyu to see all of his skin and one of the day-old love bites he’s left on Jeonghan’s stomach, right there beside his navel. 

Mingyu releases a harsh breath and closes his eyes quickly, not wanting to look anymore. He knows he won’t last. He clenches for another time, cock throbbing, and his body rocks through a shiver that jolts his ankles and wrists.

He chokes out a pathetic, “Hyung, I—” before Jeonghan interrupts him.

“Let me see you when you come. Go ahead.”

He clenches around nothing once more, raises the leg closest to where his cock is curving, barely even an inch of his thigh brushing against the base of his cock and the side of his balls, but it’s _enough_. He keens loud and pained into his closed mouth, feeling that familiar electric pleasure snap through his nerves like a spray of gunpowder catching the light of a match and spreading through the air. He keeps clenching around nothing. His balls tighten and he empties himself out on his chest, writhing enough that some of his come splatters onto his chin and the corner of his mouth. His chest heaves as he pants and twists to try and work through the feeling of it, that intensity of coming untouched, not even a finger to relieve the hollow ache of unfinished satisfaction.

He can taste the metallic flavor of blood on his tongue from biting down too hard on his bottom lip, mixing with artificial vanilla, but he’s barely even aware of it, the realization flitting out of his mind before he can really register it.

Jeonghan steps to his side and Mingyu can hear it, eyes opening to look up at those soft footfalls. Jeonghan looks at him in a way Mingyu can’t explain, Mingyu’s brain probably leaking from his ears and taking all of his words with it, and then Jeonghan’s palm becomes a welcomed coolness over his cheek as Jeonghan slips his fingers into his hair and under his ear. He leans down over him, presses the softest kiss to his lips before shifting his hand so he can squeeze Mingyu’s cheeks like before. Mingyu’s mouth falls open to it, toes curling, struggling in his bonds when Jeonghan licks inside his mouth, saliva dripping from his tongue, Mingyu’s throat working to swallow all of it, and Mingyu feels his cock jerk as what little come he has left splatters over the hand Jeonghan places down on Mingyu’s stomach to steady himself, the act so hot he aches to come again even while softening.

Jeonghan pulls away and releases his cheeks, lets go of his mouth. Jeonghan’s thumb brushes off the cooling come on his chin and what little reached the corner of his mouth. 

“Thank you. Now be good and wait here for me,” Jeonghan whispers at Mingyu’s ear, kissing the side of his head. “I’ll come clean you up when I’m out of the shower.”

Mingyu doesn’t hear the words at first, brain too foggy and body still twitching everywhere with shocks. He only realizes once the shower in the hotel room kicks on that Jeonghan’s left him tied up and the bathroom door open. He has to wait.

He groans loudly, frustrated but too satiated to do any more than that, and Jeonghan laughs from the shower, the sound filling up their room like the curls of steam puffing from the heat of the running water, cutting through all of Mingyu’s complaints.


End file.
